Thank God for Drunken Prank Calls
by inredrainboots
Summary: Sam asks the girl apologizing for her sister's prank call to coffee, wanting it to become more than that. Only to realize he hasn't imprinted yet. What will become of them? Will he imprint on her, will it become something more only for her to get hurt, or will he tear himself away from the owner of the beautiful voice before more happens? SamxOC. Possibly OOC.


**A/N: I do not own Twilight. Duh. No suing. It isn't nice.**

"Hey, this is Sam, what can our construction company do for you today?" I spoke into the phone while bouncing Claire on my hip. Quil had me watching her while he was on patrol. It was my day off and this Alpha was planning on using it to watch the soccer game. I was doing just that, while playing "swoots and waddors" with the toddler, until the phone call came.

"Heyyyy. I was wondering if you'd build me a mansion? With a baftub big enough for me and five sexxxxy dicks like yourselfffff. . . hehe. . ." A girl slurred. Someone was drunk. I could barely make out giggles in the background. Oh, shit. I set Claire down before there was a chance she'd hear anything else Quil'd beat me up for later. There was then muffled yelling in the background. "_Jennifer what the hell? Give me the goddamn phone._ Aww, c'mon baby sis ya know you wanna get laid by one of these guys. Haven't you seeeeeennnn them around the rez? _No, I do not want to get "_laid_" as you so delicately call it. Now give me the fuckin' phone."_ I hear a thud, a moan, and a clank before a different, very sober voice comes on the line.

"Hello, this is Clara Nexus, may I ask who I am speaking to?" Ancestors. It was the silkiest, sexiest, most beautiful voice I had ever heard. I would gladly listen to it lecture me on inverse equations (and math was my least favorite subject in school) all day.

"Um, this is Sam." I say like an idiot.

"Hi, Sam. I'd just like to apologize for my sister's behavior. She and some of her friends got really drunk. I guess it's sleep-over prank call time at two in the afternoon. I promise she isn't usually so. . . vulgar when she's thinking clearly."

"Th-that's fine. I wasn't busy or anything. . . and, you know, she was drunk, so. . . yeah."

"Well, thanks for your understanding. I guess I should let you get back to not being busy, yeah?" She joked. She sounded slightly uncomfortable – but it also sounded like she was used to apologizing for her sister. It was just an unpleasant task for her. And hell no, I didn't want her to let me get back to "swoots and waddors" quite just yet.

"Actually, getting back to not being busy doesn't sound that great. Care to go for a coffee with me? I'm not that busy tomorrow, but I'm babysitting my niece right now." I said in a rush. God, what if she thinks I'm a player, or something, asking her out after like a forty second phone conversation?

"Uh, I guess so – I mean, yeah, sure, I'd like that. Um, I'm free around now tomorrow. Sunday and all. Yeah. Is that good with you?" YES! I do a mini happy dance in the kitchen while Claire giggles at me. And she's nervous too – that's good. We'll both look like fools together, and by association, neither one of us will look like fools. Then again, the shyness probably makes her look even cuter. Even? I haven't even seen the girl yet. . . I push it aside as she speaks.

"Can I have your phone number? I mean, your cell phone number."

"This is actually my cell. It's listed as the company phone for convenience purposes."

"Okay, cool. I'll text you on mine so you have my number. Then we can work out the details."

"Yep. See ya tomorrow."

"Bye, Sam." She hangs up.

"Bye, Clara." I whisper.

"Sammies gotta giwlfwiend, Sammy gotta giwfwiend!" Claire screams as the door opens and Quil walks in. He laughs and twirls his imprint around before attaching her to his hip. She giggles into his shoulder and stares at me. Goodness. Quil slaps a hand over his heart.

"Sam? Finally fallen for someone? Since when? When do we get to meet her?"

Oh. Oh fucking crap. I just asked a girl out on a date. And I haven't found my imprint yet.

Oh, hell.

But it's not like I can cancel now. And there's something about her voice. . . could she. . . no. Don't get your hopes up.

I have to see her, possible imprint or no, just once. It's just coffee – there's no strings attached yet. Just coffee.


End file.
